


On A Road Trip

by ashesandhoney



Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Alternate Universe - Road Trip, F/F, Fluff and Smut, Human
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-04
Updated: 2018-02-04
Packaged: 2019-03-13 12:25:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13570548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashesandhoney/pseuds/ashesandhoney
Summary: Fluffy roadtrip smut in which Clary is inexperienced and Isabelle is more than happy to help her figure things out.(I got the prompt off a femslash february prompt list).





	On A Road Trip

A road trip with a near stranger didn't seem like the best idea that Clary had ever had but so far it was going well. Isabelle Lightwood was intense. Black hair and perfect makeup and that stupid phrase about curves and the right places actually seemed to fit for her. Clary wanted to hate her. She wanted to hate her for bringing three bags and too many pairs of shoes. She wanted to hate her for being that pretty. She wanted to hate her for being the type of person who could probably actually make it as an actress after moving to LA.

Clary was going for an internship. Six months at an animation studio doing work on backgrounds. She wasn't even sure that she wanted to work in animation but the chance to get out of New York and far away from her mother's over protective absurdities had seemed worth it.

She hadn't actually run away. She was nineteen. Nineteen-year-olds didn't run away. They were adults. She was an adult. She wasn’t running away. She just hadn’t told her mother everything.

She had left in the middle of the night without telling her mother. She had left a note and a copy of the acceptance letter. It wasn't quite the mature way out but it was close enough to keep her mother from throwing a 'call the cops' level freak-out. It had been an impressive freak-out when Clary had answered the phone the next day but the cops hadn't been called.

Clary had slept in the battered sedan for the first time the night before they left. She had picked up Isabelle outside the hideous old building her family called home the next morning. They had traded drivers somewhere in New Jersey after eating breakfast sandwiches from a fast food place. They had sat on the hood of the car and Clary had felt free for the first time in her entire life. Isabelle had been driving when Clary finally stopped ignoring her phone and answered her mother's call.

"Wow," Isabelle had said when Clary finally hung up on her mother in the midst of Jocelyn Fairchild's rant about responsibility and safety and good choices.

"That's my mom for you," Clary said.

"She doesn't even need a conversation partner," Isabelle said. "My mom isn't that bad. Maybe she's worse. My mom just asks loaded questions and then waits for you to hang yourself with your answers. It'd be easier if she would just yell."

Isabelle had the windows down and her hair tossed back in a ponytail so the loose edges streamed around her face and made her look like a movie star. Clary's hair was getting stuck in her mouth and she had to squint against the wind that was whipping in through the windows. The freeway was empty at this time of day and Isabelle drove like an idiot. Far too fast.

The trip went well for the first three days.

Jocelyn didn't chase them down or call the police. Clary called up a pizzeria and ordered a pizza for Luke because she was very sure that he was the reason behind that show of restraint. Isabelle's older brother sent a few text messages but her parents didn't seem quite as upset about the road trip as Clary's mom was.

They traded off driving. They shared stories and laughed about their families. They covered a lot of distance. Isabelle liked to drive and when they got out into the empty roads of middle America where there was nothing but corn and space, she took over driving with glee. Clary stopped holding onto the seat with white knuckles on the second day because if this was how she was going to die, there wasn't much holding on was going to do to save her.

She sketched instead.

She sketched the creepy rest stops and the abandoned buildings they passed. She sketched things from memory. She sketched corn fields and farm steads. She sketched out the weeping willow that they stopped to eat truck stop sandwiches under. She sketched Isabelle. She sketched Isabelle a lot. Izzy with her hair down. Izzy dozing against the window. Izzy with an arm out the window and her sunglasses slipping down her nose. Izzy sneering at a trucker who had tried to convince her to let him take her out on a date. Izzy. Izzy. Izzy.

"Oh! That's good," Isabelle said on the morning of the fourth day.

Clary did not actually yelp but only because she had a mouthful of coffee. She grabbed the sketchbook back and slammed it shut. The page that she had left open was of a statue of a giant animal they had seen at the edge of the road. Clary had exaggerated the perspective until the groundhog or whatever it was supposed to be loomed up like a monster. She liked the sketch. She had planned to dig out pastels and add some colour o it while they drove.

"It's nothing."

"I thought you were going to LA to be an actress," Izzy said.

"I can't act. I'm doing an internship."

"Your mother's this freaked out over an art internship?"

"My mother is only freaked out that I'm not in her sight."

"Can I see more of your pictures? Drawings? Whatever you call it? Can I see your art stuff?"

"No."

"You can't be an artist if you don't show people your art, Clarissa," Izzy said.

As Clary had started to call Isabelle, Izzy more and more, Izzy had picked up calling her Clarissa in retaliation. No one called her Clarissa. Not even her mother. It was cute. Clary liked the way that Isabelle made the name sound longer and grander than it was. That was not enough to make Clary hand over the sketchbook. She did not want to show Izzy that the last twenty pictures were mostly of her. She was fine showing her art to other people just not to people she had been sketching without permission.

Izzy paid a lot more attention to Clary's doodling after that.

Time was strange when you were trapped in a car with someone else. It felt like a long time before Clary gave in and asked Izzy's permission to draw her. It was probably only a few hours since they'd left the last motel.

"Will you make me look prettier than I am?"

"No-"

"What? Then why would I let you draw me. Shut up." Izzy reached across the console and punched Clary in the arm without looking away from the road. Clary tried to dodge out of the way. Izzy hit her hard.

"Hey!" Clary said. "I just meant that I don't think I can make you an prettier than you are. I can't imagine what someone prettier than you would look like!"

Izzy did look away from the road. Clary had her sketchbook up to block another punch but Izzy just smiled and said, "Flattery is an acceptable apology. Make me look good and you can draw me all day."

Clary winced at the realization of what she had said. She hadn't meant to say that. She hadn't meant to try for over the top flattery. It had slipped out by accident. Izzy was watching the road again and Clary hoped like hell that the other girl didn't notice her blush. Again. Again, Izzy made her blush. Izzy kept worming her way in under Clary's skin and making her blush or forget how to speak.

The first night they'd gotten a motel that didn't have two beds, they'd shared without it being an issue. Clary hadn't even imagined that it would be uncomfortable. Then she had woken up with Isabelle Lightwood wrapped around her like a second blanket in a pair of short cotton shorts and a tank top. Neither of those things counted as clothing when someone was wrapped around you. Izzy with her nose buried in Clary's hair and her arms tight around her waist. Even their legs had been wound together. Clary hadn't been able to talk at all until after they'd put a hundred miles between them and that bed.

As they pulled off the highway into another small town with another mediocre motel, Izzy imperiously held out her hand for the sketchbook. Clary sighed and gave it to her. They sat in the parking lot of the motel as Izzy flipped through it with a big smile on her face. She would flip it around to show Clary the ones that she liked. She turned around one of her driving with her sunglasses on her head and her hair falling around her face.

"Look at this one! You definitely make me look prettier than I am," Izzy said. "I approve."

"You make it easy. You're beautiful."

And once again, more words had slipped out of Clary's mouth than she had intended. Izzy held her gaze but before she could say anything, Clary bolted. She climbed out of the car and headed to the office to book them a room and didn't really pay any attention to what she was doing. The clerk gave her the keys and she had to stop before going out to look down at them and see what the number was because she hadn't heard it when the man had said it.

Izzy was waiting at the car and handed her back the sketchbook with a smile. She slung an arm around Clary's shoulder as Clary took it back. She held the book to her chest and Izzy told her that their room number was lucky in Chinese numerology. Clary felt short and overwhelmed with Izzy's arm around her neck. Izzy's skin was warm and she smelled good. Who smelled good after spending a good six hours in an ancient beige sedan? Clary was pretty sure she smelled like exhaust and sweat.

Izzy leaned in and her cheek brushed Clary's as she asked, "Is the clerk as creepy as he looks?"

"He works at a roadside motel in the middle of nowhere so probably," Clary said.

"Which could mean that he has a family to support and is a wonderful guy but he really doesn't look like the type, does he?"

Clary managed to keep her side of the conversation up as they walked around the corner of the building to where the rest of the rooms were. What she said was a mystery. She was still embarrassed by the comment and unnerved by how close Izzy was. It was hard to maintain normal conversation when your thoughts were busy second guessing every other time Isabelle had ever touched her and trying to analyze whether or not this was normal for them or not.

Clary had an impressively bad track record for this.

She had found out years later that the friend she had thought was just a friend had actually been flirting back and finally given up in the face of Clary's utter obliviousness. She had thought that she was doing well flirting with a girl in biology class and asking her out had ended up being the most embarrassing moment of her entire adolescence. Clary's romantic history had three chapters: Chapter One: Failed Attempts at Dating Boys, Chapter Two: Misread Clues, and Chapter Three: Missed Opportunities. Her only girlfriend had moved to Michigan three months after their first kiss. It was such a short relationship it didn’t even count as Chapter Four.

She did not want the thing with Izzy to be another disaster in either direction. If it was an entry in the misread clues chapter, then it would be a ruined friendship and three days of exceptional awkwardness packed into the stupid car would be hell. If it ended up being a missed opportunity, Clary would never forgive herself. She had never met anyone as confident and funny and perfect as Isabelle Lightwood. To meet someone this beautiful and find out months later that she had actually been flirting would be the worst possible thing.

"Have you been flirting with me, Miss Fray?" Izzy asked as they found the right room.

Clary stopped with her hand on the door and looked up at Izzy who leaned against the door frame like a cowboy in an old movie. She pulled it off. She was smiling and Clary's thoughts short circuited all over again. 

"Do you want me to stop?" Clary asked.

"No, I just want to make sure we're on the same page before I start playing with your hair."

"My hair is tangled and full of sand because someone insists on keeping the windows down while we drive."

"Your shit box car doesn't have any AC. If we rolled up the windows, we would die. Come on inside and I'll help you wash it out."

"Did you just offer to wash my hair? Are we still flirting? That's weird flirting," Clary asked.

"Come take a shower with me, Clarissa. That’s a step past flirting. We’re into foreplay now," Izzy said.

She ran her tongue along her lower lip and let her gaze slide down over Clary. Clary was not dressed for this. She was wearing jean shorts and a t-shirt with a stupid slogan on it that Simon had bought her as a going-away present. The shirt stuck to her back and her hair stuck out in a bushy mess of curls.

Clary shut her stupid mouth and nodded.

Isabelle taking her clothes off was more than Clary could think around. Isabelle taking Clary's clothes off was enough to make her half crazy. Isabelle had gentle hands with calloused fingers. She kept every touch light and fluttery and barely there. Clary just watched her. She didn't say anything. When Izzy had her naked, Clary stepped into the small space between them and leaned up to kiss her.

Isabelle laughed as Clary's mouth brushed hers and Clary took a stumbling step back. Izzy followed her and caught her face in her hands. She wore rings and Clary could feel the metal against her cheeks. Clary's back hit the wall beside the bathroom as Izzy leaned in to kiss her back. She was still smiling. She hadn't been laughing at Clary, she was just smiling because she was happy. 

The kiss started out soft and careful. A brush of lips and a soft touch on her cheeks. Clary wasn't patient enough for that. Her hands came up and she forgot that they were already undressed. She reached to grab hold of Izzy's shirt and pull her closer but all she found was skin. She fumbled for a moment, her hands stroking over Izzy's stomach and ribs before she figured it out and caught Izzy's hips and pulled her in close.

"Don't rush me," Izzy said with a kiss to her cheek. She pulled back so that their bodies weren't pressed together anymore. Clary had barely had time to start to realize what it felt like and it was already gone. 

"You haven't been trapped in a car with you wearing short shorts for most of a week," Clary said.

"No, I've been trapped in a car with you wearing those tank tops that ride up when you slouch down to draw."

Clary frowned.

"You are absurdly hot and you have been killing me by degrees for weeks."

"We've only been on this trip for four days, Izzy."

"You were hot before I agreed to get in a car with you. I had you figured for having a thing for the band kid."

"Simon?"

"Yeah, that one."

"Simon was my first boyfriend. We were thirteen and it lasted thirty seconds. We realized it wasn't going to work really fast."

"Why's that?"

"Really?" Clary said.

"Yes, really. Why didn't it work out with the boy in the band with the floppy hair?"

Clary looked up at her. Izzy's lips were parted and her lips were flushed from the kissing they had already done. Clary wanted another kiss. She did not want to talk about Simon. Not now. This was not a good moment for him or anyone else. When she tilted her head, Izzy did not kiss her again. Izzy just raised her eyebrows like it was an important question.

"Because boys aren't all that interesting and I really don't want to talk about boys right now."

Izzy kissed her forehead and then grabbed her hand and pulled her into the bathroom. It was a motel bathroom. An ugly shower curtain, a shallow tub, plain white towels and little single use bottles of shampoo. Clary barely noticed it. She was too busy watching Isabelle. Isabelle had faint tan lines on her back from a swimsuit. Once Clary noticed her stomach muscles, her hand kept creeping out to brush them. She let her fingers trail up the slope of Izzy's hip and follow the line of her body to her ribs. The water was running and Izzy pulled her into the spray before Clary could get her nerve up to touch Izzy's breasts.

Izzy wasn't so shy. She ran her hands over Clary's skin and when she reached her breasts, her hands cupped them and squeezed a little. Thoughts fled again. Clary leaned in and licked water off of Izzy's shoulder as she squeezed again. That was good. She licked a slow line across Izzy's collarbone and then up the side of her neck. Izzy murmured and dropped her head back so Clary could do what she wanted.

"I like your freckles," Izzy said as she leaned down to kiss Clary's shoulder.

Things started to blur together. By the time they stepped out of the shower, they had both been rubbed with soap and rinsed clean. Clary's hair was washed. Izzy wrapped a towel around her shoulders and gave her a kiss on the nose as they got out of the shower. Izzy headed out into the room started to rummage in her duffle bag. Clary watched her from where she sat perched on the edge of the tub. Izzy still had water droplets clinging to her thighs and back and her hair was wet. 

"Don't get dressed," Clary said.

"You need to use a better conditioner than that drugstore brand. Curls need better products. Come here."

"You're still worried about my hair?" Clary asked.

She did as she was told. She wrapped the towel around herself and even as short as she was, it barely covered her ass. She sat on the edge of the bed and watched Izzy pull things out of the bag. She felt jumpy and uneasy and like her skin was the wrong size for the rest of her body and Izzy was talking about conditioner.

"Sit still and let me fuss over you. You're cute when you're frustrated."

"Are you messing with me?"

"You aren't terribly patient," Izzy said with a grin.

"What?" Clary said.

Izzy ignored her. She rubbed some cream between her hands and started working it into Clary's hair. She stood with her legs on either side of Clary's knees so her body was very close and Clary was eye level with her breasts. Clary leaned in and licked her nipple.

"No patience," Izzy said again with a little tsk tsk sound that Clary had only ever heard other people's grandmother's make. Clary sucked on her breast. She caught them in her hands and nuzzled and kissed as Izzy stroked her hair and ran her fingers through it. It was nice but Izzy was right about how patient she was. Izzy moved onto brushing Clary's hair and Clary moved onto to exploring with her fingers between Izzy's spread legs.

"Oh," Izzy said.

"I don't care if my hair dries into a lion's mane. I really don't," Clary said. "There are better things to do right now than brushing my damn hair."

Clary wasn't exactly experienced. Some fumbling around a few times wasn't quite what she counted as knowledgeable. Izzy was looking down at her as she stroked the folds between the other girl’s legs with her fingers. She played with her the way she played with herself as she watched Izzy's face grow soft and her mouth fall open just a little.

"Spread your knees," Izzy said.

"You're in the way," Clary said.

She spread her legs and knocked her knees against Izzy's. Izzy was still standing over her but when Clary moved for her, she leaned down and caught her knees. Clary went still and Izzy rearranged their legs so that Clary sat with her knees spread wide and Izzy could kneel down between them. Watching Isabelle kneel down on the floor in front of her was more than Clary could handle.

Izzy untucked her towel and tossed it over on the other bed and ran her hands up and down Clary's thighs a few times. She leaned in and started just below Clary's navel and then kissed down so slowly that when her tongue finally stroked across sensitive skin, Clary shuddered in surprise. Izzy held her knees in place and set to work on her.

Lips and tongue and then fingers. Clary moaned as Izzy's fingers slid into her. She shifted her hips against them, trying to demand more than she was getting but not quite sure what she needed. Izzy started to work the fingers harder. They stroked in and out as her tongue lapped at Clary's body. When Izzy started to suck, Clary shuddered. Izzy pinned her hips down with an arm across her belly. She didn't stop.

The sensation built. Clary squirmed and Izzy pressed her fingers in deeper. She was rubbing against exactly the right spot and Clary felt like there was pressure building inside her. When she came it wasn't like anything she'd ever felt before. Izzy laughed again and this time Clary knew better than to worry that she was being laughed at. Izzy didn't stop. She laughed and then she sucked harder as Clary's squirming became thrashing and panting.

When Izzy let her go, she slid down off the edge of the bed and Izzy caught her. She pressed herself into Izzy's body and breathed hard. Izzy rubbed her back and chuckled in her ear.

"Ok," Clary said.

"I thought. 'thank you' was the most awkward thing a person could say after sex but 'ok' might be worse," Izzy said.

"Shut up," Clary mumbled. She nuzzled into Izzy's shoulder and Izzy laughed at her again.

"I'm not going to be half as good at that as you are."

Izzy laid her out on her back and straddled her face. On her back in a cheap motel, in a town she couldn’t name, with a girl straddling her face, had never made the list of places that Clary had imagined herself. All she could see was Izzy. All she could smell was Izzy too. She didn’t wait for Izzy to ask, she opened her mouth and started licking Izzy’s body. She had had her hands down girl’s pants before but she had never had her mouth between someone else’s legs before.

Izzy murmured encouragement and instructions as Clary experimented. Licking and sucking and running her hands over every inch of Isabelle’s skin that she could reach. Thighs and stomach and back. Izzy moaned a little and pressed in closer and Clary licked harder until she started to tremble. Clary didn’t stop until Izzy rolled away from her.

“Holy shit, baby,” Izzy said stroking her face as she lay down beside Clary.

Clary laughed and Izzy kissed her. Clary reached out and grabbed hold of her. She rolled over into Izzy and kissed her back. Hard. Gracelessly. Izzy didn’t complain. Izzy held her close and kissed her back. Clary let out a breath of air as Izzy rolled her over onto her back and slid her fingers back inside Clary’s body. The kiss didn’t break. They kissed and cuddled and Izzy gently fingered her. Clary squirmed and pressed into the fingers.

“Come for me again, baby,” Izzy said.

Clary nodded and buried her face in Izzy’s neck as Izzy started to rub harder at a place buried deep inside. When Clary came, she came hard and fast and wet. Izzy didn’t stop. She kept rubbing hard until Clary cried out and came again in a rush. The release hit her harder and she gushed over Izzy’s fingers.

“Good, do it again,” Izzy said.

Clary buried her face in Izzy’s shoulder and Izzy murmured things in her ear that she couldn’t quite understand. Her body was trembling and Izzy had to push in past the shaking muscles to keep rubbing that spot. Clary twisted her hips and wasn’t sure if she was pushing into Izzy’s hand because she wanted more or trying to pull away because she was spent and exhausted. It didn’t matter. She did as Izzy told her. She came again. Hard and trembling and gushing all over Izzy.

“Don’t move, baby,” Izzy said when it was over.

Clary lay on her back and kept one arm curled around Izzy’s body. Izzy lay draped over her and laughed in her ear. She smelled so good. They had just gotten out of the shower and used the same shampoo and yet, Izzy smelled so good. Maybe it was something innate.

“We should go to the Grand Canyon,” Clary said.

“Why?”

“Because it’ll add another four days to this trip from where we are now,” Clary said.

“Oh, that’s a good reason,” Izzy said.

“Is that a yes?”

“I’m not in any rush. We can double back and go to New Orleans too if it makes you happy,” Izzy said.

Clary smiled and kissed Izzy’s neck. It would make her happy. She couldn’t spend the next year roaming the country but maybe they could get a little apartment in LA while Izzy looked for acting work and Clary worked through her internship. Clary sighed and cuddled in close and let the fantasies fade into dreams as she fell asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Because I'm big on backstory that doesn't make it into AUs: in a world where Valentine doesn't come back when Clary is 15, eventually Jocelyn attracts the attention of the New York Institute entirely by accident. She has no way of knowing that the head of the Institute is an old friend who might recognize her. 
> 
> Izzy is technically supposed to be trying to figure out if Clary is actually Valentine's daughter and if she is a danger and if she isn't dangerous then could she be convinced to join up with the Clave. The roadtrip is just an excuse to get Clary alone. 
> 
> Developing a bit of a crush that became a lot of crush was 100% not what she was supposed to do. 
> 
> I won't continue this into a canon rewrite because ugh canon rewrites but I do like the idea of it. Jocelyn didn't come after her because she realized who was with her and thought the safest plan was to just let Clary convince the Lightwood girl that she was utterly normal. Clary slowly coming back into her sight because she'll be gone too long for Magnus's magic to hold any more. Izzy eventually explaining it. Clary throwing a massive fit over it. Izzy becoming Clary's guide to Downworld as Clary comes into her powers. 
> 
> It would be a good story. I have too many other things on my plate to write it. But I like the idea.


End file.
